Bullseye
by Akatsuki Feathers
Summary: And suddenly Smokey, or whoever the hell promoted that bull, didn’t seem so wrong. /Implied Cox/Janitor, drabble.\


Fuck.

His head ached and pounded, and he could feel his eyes flutter in and out of consciousness. Flashes of reds, blues, yellows, whites, forced their way through the slivers of opening between his lids, making him wince and groan. His mouth held the distinct aftertaste of beer and something he couldn't place his finger on.

Large hands rested on his shoulders, and some nosy hands peeled back his eyelids. This resulted in making his headache even worse and making him hiss angrily at the blur of people in front of him.

"Is the other one okay?"

"There's a bullseye on the windshield, classic sign of impact from inside. We better come to a conclusion soon!"

"He has a pulse!"

"Careful! Put him on the gurney slowly. He might have a broken neck!"

What's going on?

He felt himself be prodded for a moment, before his eyes lids were squeezed gently and pulled up once again.

"Stay awake, sir, stay awake!"

He ground his teeth and grunted in annoyance. He stared at the woman with an air of arrogance. Like she couldn't talk to him like that. Especially where he was…

Wait; where was he anyway?

Home?

… No, they said windshield earlier.

So, a car?

Well, that didn't seem right…

His eyes opened widely and he pulled out of his stupor for a moment to see what could possibly be happening.

What he saw was not what he was expecting. He was having a bloody seatbelt cut off of him while the actual buckle was mangled beyond repair. The windshield had spider web cracks stretching all the way over to his side and something dark was starting to crust around the bullseye in front of the driver's side.

He was helped out of the passenger seat and onto a gurney. He looked at the flashing ambulances that were parked near the ruined van.

Van?

He was pulled into one of the ambulances and he winced roughly as the siren seems to scream louder and the car lurched forward in movement. He felt the paramedics check his vitals.

The trip was blurry, and when he was wheeled into the ER his cloths were pulled off, leaving him naked, and his body was inspected for any signs of internal bleeding. He knew this because he had done the same thing when he was forced to work ER shifts. They were doing what he was expected to do back then.

"Has the other one come yet?" The doctor asked, once he was finished checking him.

"Yes, he's in room next to us."

"How is he?"

"He has a bad head injury and is unresponsive. He is breathing on his own though, and there don't seem to be any signs of internal bleeding as of yet. We've scheduled him for an x-ray and an MRI."

"Good, tell me the results when you're done."

Who was in that van with him again?

---

When he woke up, he found himself in a normal hospital room; one that seemed very familiar and that he was greatly unpleased to find, a Sacred Heart hospital room.

Erh…

He could see much more clearly now then he did last night. A little too well.

Little Janice was sitting next to him (on the floor, might he add) staring under the bed in boredom.

He grunted to catch the man's attention watching with slightly amusement as JD jumped with fright and ended up hitting his head roughly against the wall.

"Are you okay Dr. Cox?" He asked him, picking himself off of the floor.

"You tell me, Barbara."

"Yes?" He guessed.

He frowned but said nothing.

"How's the Janitor?"

JD frowned along with him, switching on his professional doctor look. "He's not doing well. He's still unresponsive and there are clear signs of brain damage."

His lips curled down weakly as he thought. He could barely remember what happened last night. He remembered getting some drinks with the Janitor like he usually did on Sunday nights when he was off but the rest was pretty blank.

"Go get me something to eat, Newbie."

---

Weeks later, when he was finally able to get out of that bed and go home, he had finally figured out what happened that night. He wasn't sure if he should have told Jordan or not…

How could she possibly react when he told her that he made-out with another man when he was shit-faced? Would she run off to her mother's house again? Or would she swipe it away like she did with his other crushes?

He didn't want to risk losing Jack or Jennifer.

---

He stared down at the janitor with hard eyes, remembering the aftertaste of beer and tongue in his mouth when he awoke during the car accident. He looked at the bandages around the older man's head, the way his face seemed etched with the classic signs of comatose, the at the cast covered arm and leg that were suspended in the air.

And suddenly Smokey, or whoever the hell promoted that safe-driving bull, didn't seem so wrong.


End file.
